


Lamb

by det395



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Hallucinations, M/M, Mild Horror, Nightmares, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-08 19:21:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20840696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/det395/pseuds/det395
Summary: Phil goes to the house that has plagued him with nightmares for two decades





	Lamb

**Author's Note:**

> Bingo slots: captivity, hallucinations, fandom au (loosely based on The Haunting of Hill House), foreign language, haunting  
Of which I interpreted vaguely lol.

Sometimes Phil thinks if he walks into the apartment quietly, tiptoeing, stepping over the creaking stairs, then Dan won’t come find him right away. Maybe it would work if all the buildings weren’t so old in London that it’s impossible to miss those creaky steps or oil that squeaky door, not that him or Dan have even tried.

Phil isn’t graceful either, he tends to make a ruckus when he walks, the noise he makes on the hardwood so unlike his gentle demeanour.

Today, especially, he’d like to hide instead of thinking over  _ this. _

He understands Dan’s investment in this. Dan is the one that pushed him to try therapy. He’s put a large stake in the hope that Phil benefits like he has from that professional gaze. He wants to know that the money they’re investing is worth it, that Phil is getting better. Phil knows that Dan so desperately wants him to get better.

“Hey, you.” Dan smiles, sauntering over. Phil collapses back on the sofa and nods up at him in reply.

Dan  _ does  _ understand. His own experience with depression and anxiety and agoraphobia has affected Phil the same, and he needs Phil to accept him on the bad days too. It doesn’t mean he doesn’t have an expectation to see Phil get over his worst anxieties one day.

“Tired?” He collapses sideways next to Phil and rests his head on the cushion.

“Yeah. It drains me so much.”

Dan snorts, “Yeah, I feel you.”

Phil is aware that running away from his problems only makes it worse. It’s still the most appealing option.

Phil hesitates before he speaks. “She suggested something else today.”

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“I should go back to my old house,” Phil grimaces.

“Maybe that’s a good idea.”

“We left for good reason.”

“Phil,” Dan tilts his head. Phil holds in a sigh, and Dan keeps talking. “If you go back, you can see there’s nothing to be afraid of.

Phil stays quiet.

“Phil. Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“You know.”

“I don’t.”

“Shut me out like that. Okay, maybe something...unnatural happened, maybe not. Don’t you want to go back and see?” He asks.

“I remember my childhood well enough.”

“ _ Phil. _ ”

“I’ll think about it.”

Dan frowns at him. “You know there’s nothing to be ashamed of, you know my mental health is a bloody mess—”

“I just...y’know, I wish people believed me more.  _ Maybe  _ I was hallucinating or dreaming but that just makes me feel like I’m, like, not even aware of reality.” Phil rubs at his temple, where pressure is growing, another threatening migraine.

“People, like me,” Dan says.

“A lot of people. Everyone but Mum.”

“You can be aware of reality and have gone through periods of psychosis or detachment in the past.”

Phil nods defeatedly. He’s heard it before. “I know.”

“You getting another headache?”

Phil nods and Dan scoots closer. He pulls Phil’s wrist down and gently rubs at his temples himself. Phil sighs. Magic hands.

“Sorry. I just don’t want you to run away from these periods of reflection.”

“Why don’t you just be my therapist?”

“Having sexual relations with a therapist is, like, the worst idea ever.”

“It could be hot. Make me feel better, doctor,” Phil brings his voice deeper and turns to Dan’s ear. He smiles at Dan’s laugh.

“You’re fucked.”

“Hmm, would you subscribe that?”

“Do you mean prescribe?”

“Damn, I ruined it.” Phil giggles.   
  


“We’re not roleplaying therapist-patient while we’re in therapy. I won’t be able to look Josie in the eye.” 

“Okay, afterwards then.” 

Dan shakes his head and flattens his legs while Phil shuffles to lay down. He gets comfortable on one of Dan’s thighs, his cheek against the soft pyjamas. Dan resumes massaging his temples.

“Can we rewatch Speed tonight?” Phil asks.

“Fine.”

“Maybe have a bath?”

“That’s never comfortable with the two of us.”

“If you just let me sit on your lap it would be. Or you can sit on my lap.”

“You can just have a bath alone.”

“Alright. That’s all the capacity my brain has room for tonight.”

“Your poor noggin’.” Dan lightly knocks on Phil’s forehead.

“Mm, needs more lovin’,” he says, so Dan keeps running his nice fingers in slow circles. 

He’ll let himself forget about it, just for a bit.

-

He forgets until the night time. Until it’s 2:17am and Dan shakes him awake.

Phil gasps and breathes in and Dan immediately collapses down in exhaustion. He weakly pulls Phil in with one arm, and Phil can tell when he falls back asleep by his arm turning into a noodle. He doesn’t blame him, not when it’s the same every night.

Sometimes he’ll wake up Dan forreal, but tonight he breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth, just like Mariel taught him. His heart hasn’t slowed down to match his calm breaths, and it probably won’t for a while. He gulps back a sob. He’s  _ fine. _

Phil does shuffle under Dan’s arm. He pushes the one under his neck so he doesn’t give Dan a numb bicep, and pulls the other around him in a hug. Like a ragdoll or a teddy bear. Dan does tighten his grip around Phil’s chest for just a moment and it does worlds to calm Phil’s mind.

He’s supposed to write in his dream journal, but he just can’t be bothered. Not when he’s seen this one so many times.

That one bedroom. The old furniture, constantly covered in dust because Mum won’t go in. He was just playing, it was just hide and seek. Now Martyn can’t open the door and he’s yelling at Phil to stop playing. There isn’t even a lock on the door. Mum and Dad won’t be back for another hour and Phil is trapped. He’s scared to look under the bed. He imagines that man taking up all the space under there, peering out. He just cries, while Martyn yells.

-

A gruff voice answers. “Hello?” 

“Hey Dad. Where’s Mum?”

“Oh, uh, Tuesday...it’s that book club she started.”

“Shoot, right.” Phil nibbles at his bottom lip, making eye contact with Dan over the screen of his laptop.

“What is it? Anything you wanna talk to your old man about?”

He stands from the couch and begins to pace.

“Son?”

“Yeah, I’m here. I’m thinking about going back to that house. I was wondering if you have the number for whoever bought it?”

“Oh. We sold to a real estate investor, so I’m afraid we never got to see that process. We wanted to sell pretty fast...I can try to find the investors contacts, though….”

“No, it’s okay Dad, don’t worry about it. I just wanted to call before as courtesy.”

“Alright, if you’re sure. Now, why exactly do you want to go back?”

Phil sighs, making another face at Dan, who tilts his head in question. “My therapist thinks it might help with the nightmares to see it as an adult.”

“Ah, I see.” 

Phil paces in even quicker turns. His father gets so awkward with things like this. Phil doesn’t reply.

“Maybe you’ll see that there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

That stings. Phil stops walking and nods with his phone against his face. “Yeah, Dad.”

“Phil?”

“Yeah?”

“I wouldn’t mention it to your mother. You know how she gets.”

Phil swallows back a lump in his throat. 

“Okay. How are you doing, anyway?”

“I’m alright.”

“Still..?”

“Still healthy as can be.”

He just nods against the phone again. They say goodbyes. His dad was never all that chatty.

He sits next to Dan again. “He doesn’t know who bought it,” Phil shrugs.

Dan nods, watching him like he’s waiting for Phil to say more.

“Mario Kart?” he says instead.

-

Just a couple of days later he does wake up Dan, fully.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispers, shaking Dan’s arm. Dan’s body lurches when his eyes open, wide and red with exhaustion. 

“It’s fine,” he grumbles weakly, blinking rapidly to wake up, “what is it?”

“I had the dream where I died again,” he sniffles. His face is wet with streaks down his face that more tears follow as they fall. 

“Oh,” Dan tsk’s, grabbing his shoulder. “You're okay now.”

“My left arm still aches, it’s so real.” Phil winces, thinking back to the time they went to the hospital, declaring that Phil had a stroke at 25. He’s perfectly healthy, he tells himself, but the paranoia lingers. He clutches his arm.

Dan says as much, “it’s not real, it’s phantom pain.”

“My heart is still going crazy.” He lifts Dan’s palm to his chest. 

“Come here,” he opens his arms and Phil cuddles down, hiding his face into Dan’s shoulder like a child. He tries to stop the tears, but the comfort somehow makes him even more emotional and his chin quivers.

“Do you want toast?” Dan asks.

It makes Phil chuckle just a bit through the tears. “You sure know me, huh?”

“I’d fucking hope so by now.” He nudges at Phil to get up. Phil winds up the duvet and wraps it around his shoulders.

Despite the easy task, Phil sits at the table and just watches Dan wait for the toast to pop. He makes the toast for him, scraping copious amounts of butter just like Phil likes and carrying it on a piece of paper towel. It’s just domestic enough to be comforting.

He takes a satisfyingly crunchy bite, and Dan leans down to steal a bite from the other end. 

“I don’t want to die,” Phil whispers. Dan leans in closer.

“You’re not going to, not for decades and decades, when you’ll be ready,” Dan says.

“I think I will go back to the house,” he says. His hands shake so he sets down the toast.

“Really?” 

“If it is paranoia then I need these dreams to stop somehow.”

A hand grabs his and squeezes.

-

In the days leading up to the nonrefundable train ride, Phil’s body seems to be telling him something.

Without eating any dairy, he’s getting these cramping stomach aches. The headaches won’t go away and he swears he feels them in his dreams, too. His hands tremble, before and after coffee. He switches between shivering and sweating, and swears they even happen at the same time. Nausea plagues him so much that he sits on the bathroom floor with nothing coming up.

Despite it all, no fever is detected and he looks just fine. Google tells him he will die and Dan shuts the laptop on him.

Dan’s cold palm presses to Phil’s forehead. Phil peers up at him, watching the worry in his face. He causes him so much worry, every single day. It’s too big a part of life for them, watching each other, hoping for mindfulness and peace to come.

He could cancel the trip. Dan wouldn’t be mad, even when the train company steals their money and leaves their seats empty. He stares up at Dan, who brushes his hair off his forehead with such a fond gaze. Even after all they’ve been through.

He doesn’t say anything.

-

They find a ‘for sale’ sign as they walk up the path. It’s faded and weathered, chipped away at the corners and laying flat on the overgrown grass.

Phil turns to Dan with a look that says  _ see?! _

Dan just shrugs. “Maybe we can just walk inside if no one lives here.”

It’s a sparse neighbourhood. On the highest point of the valley hill, where the richest live and thrive in their big plots of land, houses hidden behind gates and hedges. No one would see them break in, probably.

This one was a steal of a deal. Perfect to fix up and sell to the next successful entrepreneur or lawyer that moved to Rossendale. That is, before it proved to be far too much work.

It looks unsettlingly familiar. Like it hasn’t changed the slightest bit. It looks smaller now that Phil has grown into his lanky body, but otherwise, it’s just the same as it was 20 years ago. Just how he sees it in his dreams.

Dan begins trudging forward and Phil follows, with his hands shoved deep in his pockets to hide the trembling.

He’s safe with Dan, he tells himself.

Dan peeks back at him before grabbing the doorknob and twisting. He pushes and it drags open a few inches. Dan looks shocked, maybe a little amused.

“It’s still private property, Dan.”

Dan shrugs, and walks in, peering around. Phil slowly follows, with a wash of deja vu.

Once in the long parlour, Dan turns back and takes Phil’s hands out of his pockets. He holds them gently, watching them tremble.

“We can turn back. Anytime you want,” Dan whispers.

Phil nods.

“How are you feeling?”

“Anxious,” Phil says. Immediately he feels better to just admit it. Dan squeezes his hands and shuffles forward, letting Phil put his arms up in a hug first.

“Want to leave?”

He hesitates. They came all this way.

“Let’s look around first. Maybe everyone is right. Maybe I did hallucinate it all. Maybe this will stop the nightmares.” 

Dan nods and pulls back. “After you.”

Phil steps forward. The parlour separates into two hallways with a staircase in the middle. He walks left, first.

The kitchen looks the same, except with dust and grime covering all the surfaces. There are no knick-knacks anymore. The dining room isn’t as bare, the china cabinet stocked up. He hears Dan sneeze and walks out quickly, down the other hallway.

The family room was just about the only room he liked. The green carpet is gaudy and the fireplace has burn marks all over but this is where the family would all sit together and Phil never felt safer. He walks out again.

It doesn’t look as nice, bare and abandoned like this.

The stairs creak just like they used to. No matter how carefully he steps on them, it feels like the house screams at him. Dan runs up after him and Phil doesn’t know how to tell him to keep it down without sounding crazy. It’s an empty house, it really is.

“It’s like the hotel from The Shining,” Dan says when they get to the first landing. There are no windows up here. This was the wall where all the family photos were placed, mostly people he didn’t even know.

A painting is still hung up further down the hallway. Phil never liked that one. The old man with the eerie glimmer in his eyes. Dad had the decency to leave it behind after the night terrors Phil had.

Dan studies it, and Phil takes the opportunity to walk further down the hall alone, and into the guest bedroom. 

It looks the same. That fucking ragdoll still sits on the chair. The covers are a little messy on the bed. Everything is clean.

Phil takes a deep breath, and bends down onto his knees, feeling the joints pop. He has to do what he never had the guts to do as a small child. He lifts the covers quickly and peers under the bed, hearing his heart in his head.

There’s nothing, obviously. It’s just a creepy, old house. The house just settles and makes noises. Whatever that means. It’s all his dad would ever say about Phil’s anxieties. That, and drone on about Phil’s ‘overactive imagination’.

“Phil?” Dan calls out, but his voice is muffled. Phil turns towards the noise and sees the door completely shut.

Did he do that? Why would he shut the door? Would Dan prank him?

He moves to scramble to his feet, but something catches his eye. A scratch on the floor. He squints at it.

_ erit anima tua praesentia praegravatur _

It means nothing to him, he pushes himself to his feet, and lunges at the door, ripping it open to see Dan standing on the other side. His eyes are wide, staring at Phil like he’s crazy.

“Did you close the door?” Phil asks.

“No? Why would I?”

“We should head out,” Phil says, beginning to walk with vigour towards the staircase.

“Hey, is this the old man you always saw?” Dan beckons to the painting. 

Phil pauses, looking at it. “He kind of looks like it. That’s what my dad always thought when I told him about the visions. But I get the feeling that it’s someone else. The painting isn’t familiar.”

Dan gulps, looking a little lost for words. Phil knows that he’s weird. He always thought Dan would be the one person to not be bothered by it.

He takes the stairs two at a time, not stopping until he’s outside to wait for Dan. He jogs after Phil and they walk down the path, back towards the rental car.

Dan grabs his hand, halting both of them. Phil sees something else in his eye.

“I thought I saw something. It’s why I didn’t follow you. It  _ did  _ look like a man. Someone familiar. Someone staring at me.” He gulps, his eyes glassy. “I just froze, but then it was gone, as if a trick of the eyes.”

Phil sighs, because of course Dan is making a rational explanation, but Dan shakes his arm so Phil pays attention to him.

“I’m not trying to disagree with you this time. I think I get caught up in my beliefs, but really I don’t know anything, I don’t know the laws of nature. I know you’ve never made up your fear, and you deserve to have people believe you.”

Phil watches him for a moment before throwing his arms around his shoulders.

“Oh!” Dan exclaims, but hugs him back.

“I don’t want to return here. Not until I’m much older, maybe. I just want to live my life and stop being so afraid.”

A bubble of emotions rises up and tears and snot quickly run down his face. Dan hurries him into the car, pulling him by his wrists, and drives somewhere that they can be alone, where Phil can relax again.

-

2:17am, he wakes, just as he does every single night. This time, he panics at the unfamiliar surroundings of the hostel.

Dan hugs him and it feels like home again. He sighs out.

This was one of the dreams he doesn’t mind so much. Just walking around the house, looking out the window at the sun. 

He knows that, for now at least, he’s safe. The house might follow him for the rest of eternity but right now, he’s in Dan’s arms. They will continue to survive.

And tomorrow he will indulge in some waffles and forget all about the night terrors that plague him. Then, he will call his mum.

**Author's Note:**

> Random fact: the painting is [this](http://paulmurray.com/wp-content/gallery/appalachia-series/c24_moonshiner_prelim_water.jpg) which has hung in my house for years and used to give me nightmares I swear it's even worse in person
> 
> [Tumblr link](https://det395.tumblr.com/post/188057977557/lamb)
> 
> [moodboard by hyggephan!! :D ](https://hyggephan.tumblr.com/post/619290154708893696/a-moodboard-for-det395s-fic-lamb)


End file.
